Page 53 of The Striker


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I can't help but chuckle at Deacon's optimism, shaking my head. "Bro, she's not going to date you. Or do whatever else you want her to do with your ass. That’s why she avoids you."

He snorts. “Doesn’t mean I can’t try.”

“Your funeral,” I tell him, rolling my eyes.

My phone rings again. Why is my Dad calling me? We’re not exactly on speaking terms. Hitting the silence button, I send him to voicemail. If it’s so important he can leave one.

"But seriously, though. Do we think Jameia would be willing to help? No questions asked?” Felix asks.

I shrug, my gaze distant. "It's worth a shot. Jameia's not the type to turn a blind eye to something like this, and the photos will carry more weight coming from her than from us. Coach won't have any reason to question information that comes from her."

Deacon nods in agreement. “Tomorrow after practice?” We all nod, and Deacon leans back on the couch, a satisfied expression on his face. “Cool. I got this.”

As we continue discussing everything that comes next, Felix mentions his plan to attend the Zeta Pi party tonight. I don’t know why he bothers. We have what we need. But I leave it alone. No point in objecting. I want Cecilia to be safe. Getting Holt removed from the team is little more than a baby step in the right direction, but it’s something, and right now, something is all I need because it’s a hell of a lot more than nothing.

Cecilia’s doing her own thing. Putting herself back together and all that shit. Without me. I hate it, and I feel fucking useless but this … we can take care of this. And who knows, maybe Felix will stumble across something else.

16CECILIA

“I’ll wait in the car,” I tell Wyatt as he turns left, detouring to his friend’s place.

“You don’t have to do that,” he says. “You can come in. Say hi, maybe?”

“It’s fine. Really. I’ll just dink around on my phone while you do your thing.”

His shoulders dip in relief. “I appreciate how cool you’re being about this,” he says. “But no way am I leaving you in the car. Spencer’s place can be crazy, and I don’t want anyone to bother you while I’m inside.”

Why would anyone bother me? I’ll just be alone in the car. I’m assuming Wyatt will park in the driveway. Maybe on the side street. Does his friend live in a shady neighborhood or something?

He takes another left, and my heart starts to pound as we pass a series of familiar houses.

“Where did you say your friend lives again?” Shit. This is not good.

“Greek Row.” He slows, driving well below the speed limit as we approach the— “He lives there.” Wyatt points toward a large two-story house, fully illuminated with loud music coming from it and the lawn littered with PacNorth students.

“The Zeta Pi house?” The blood drains from my face. This is a dream. It has to be.

Wyatt nods, confirming my worst fear. Dread sits like a lead weight in the pit of my stomach.

Scratch that. Tonight is a fucking nightmare.

“Yeah. Have you been to one of their parties before? They’re dope.”

“Not in a long time,” I mutter.“Never again,”I whisper to myself.

Unaware of the sheer horror flooding me, Wyatt brings the truck to a stop at the curb. Killing the engine, he reaches into the backseat and grabs his friend’s bag before getting out. But me, I’m frozen in my seat. I can’t be here. I can’t—No. Just no.

There’s a knock on my window.

“You coming?” Wyatt asks, his voice muffled through the glass.

“I think I’ll just wait for you here.”

He shakes his head and opens my door. I consider grabbing the handle to hold it shut but he’s faster than my frozen fingers are. The music is louder now. A heavy thrum that hits me square in the chest.

“No way. These parties get crazy. My mother would kill me if she knew I left a girl out in the car at one of these things.”

He reaches for my hand and, with a mind of their own, my legs move to follow him.